Twenty Propositions on a Mesoscale Low-Pressure Center

1. When the wind blows and my bangs are no longer, I walk onwards
   
2. I walk onwards into the storm, put on headphones, and begin to dance.
3. Dance and feel alive.
   
4. I want to feel alive, so I follow my friend into a 36 year old man’s car at 12:08 am on a Friday night. Listen to Stereolab as he drives us across the Point Street Bridge to a second location. Sit cramped in the back of his little old coupe, watch the lights shimmer on the surface of the river, wonder if everything will be alright.
   
5. Everything feels alright when I’m studying the red blinking lights of the three smokestacks outside of my window. They never seem to move the same way—
   
6. Is a pattern even a pattern if it never repeats?
   
7. Where does a beginning begin and an ending end?
   
8. At the end of the night, a kind stranger invites me to go fishing with him. I want to say yes. I have always wanted to experience the foreign joy of being a man; to tie up a pretty little lure, cast a fishing line, sit in my boat with a cold beer and wait. I want to say yes to this stranger, become someone I am not for a day. 
9. Perhaps I should be more afraid, but
   
10. I am not afraid of death. (Death is more natural than working a 9-to-5 job;
    
11. I am more afraid of getting hurt.  
    
12. On the day of the mesolow, I laid in bed and licked my wounds.
    
13. I am dog cyclone. Mouth chasing tail.  
    
14. Body rippling.
    
15. Bloom.
    
16. I was born on a Wednesday. It was cloudy.
    
17. I put off calling my mom. She tells me I need to renew my passport. The words 吾爱侬 stick in the back of my throat.
    
18. I am trying to hold onto happiness. It is such a slippery slippery little thing, it keeps on slipping out from my fingertips.
    
19. At times there are contradictions in my metaphors; nevertheless, I am moved by them
20. When the wind blows, all roads lead back to Providence, Rhode Island.